


From The Top

by frymyrisole



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Attempt at Humor, M/M, Regression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:54:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29581956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frymyrisole/pseuds/frymyrisole
Summary: By the one hundredth time Atsumu regresses he's come to terms that maybe he's never meant to have a decent conversation with the living walking enigma that is his dark paramour. It's a skill set honestly. Right under Regression, and Enhanced Aim, it's Inability to Flirt With Sakusa Kiyoomi.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 18
Collections: Haikyuu Big Bang 2020





	From The Top

**Author's Note:**

> So excited to finally reveal this Haikyuu Big Bang fic! I want to especially thank my partner and amazing artist @durapuff for their amazing art that you can check out here:  
> https://www.instagram.com/p/CLjmPxOATA4/?igshid=yg7xesy20ay8  
> Please leave them lots of love for their beautiful art, it's everything I ever wanted and imagined for this fic aaaaaa (o´▽`o)that being said please enjoy this fic!

In a world choke-full of adventures, evolving magic, and wannabe demon kings just around your street corner, making a party of like-minded people has mostly been likened to that of a business transaction really. Atsumu remembers the way the priest in his hometown spoke in poetics of the legendary first hero party, who vowed with the holy sword of the chosen knight, the staff of the holiest priestess, the dagger of a thief turned heart of gold, and the axe of a veteran berserker that they would defeat the demon lord and bring peace into the lands.

He wonders what they would think of Atsumu's rag tag party.

For one, there were no priestesses in sight. Try as he might to recruit a woman in their journey, most were reluctant to travel alone with men. The other half were too busy slapping Atsumu across the cheek despite him giving them the _best_ night of their life. He's just not cut out to give them the best at all times alright?

For two, this isn't _technically_ Atsumu's party. He wasn't exactly the chosen hero or whatever nonsense your local king tries to scam you too into free labor. If Atsumu had to assign himself into a given role, it'd be a tortured archer, weaving through life without a purpose. One who was too big for a small town to contain (really, he grew bored of the people, and the mayor didn't like the way his wife was eyeing him every time they crossed paths). In fact, the town was too small to contain not only Atsumu, but his brother.

If Atsumu were to be threatened with the fear of death-well, if Atsumu were threatened with the fear of say, constant pain but never enough for death, he'd admit that he would've never lived past the age of like, five without Osamu.

Despite Atsumu earning a near-unprecedented legendary ultra-rare super cool skill like regression after a freak accident when they were twelve after he fell from a tree, Atsumu didn't exactly have the best sense of self-preservation.

For three, the moment he met the quote-unquote _god_ that blessed him with said skill, his first words were, "Dammit I wanted a hot chick."

_"A hot chick?"_ The god gasped, grasping at his translucent dress. _"You're in the presence of the great Oikawa Tooru, and you dare ask for a woman?!"_

"Never heard of you," Atsumu muttered, picking at the blood welling in his knees. He took note of his surroundings, a vast darkness with speckles of stars lighting the space they occupy. There's even some dusting over the god's hair and clothes, giving him an ethereal look. Or something like that, if Atsumu had to be prose heavy. "Am I dead?"

_"You are,"_ Oikawa smiles, leaning against his gaudy throne. _"What a tragically short and useless life, wouldn't you say?"_

"I guess," Atsumu shrugged. "At least they'll name the tree over me or something. Just-is Osamu alright?"

_"Hmm,"_ Oikawa twirled his finger in a circle, and a mirror materialized in front of them. Reflected on it was the events taking over in the real world, Osamu was clutching his limp hand, sobbing and clutching the bloodied grass. _"See for yourself."_

"Oh ew," Atsumu said. "Is that bits of my-eugh. Well good to know he's crying over me the jerk."

_"You're surprisingly calm about this. Are kids your age this cynical?"_

"Am I supposed to cry and keel over in regret?" Atsumu laughed. "It's better this way, honestly. My family and I don't have much and me being twins, well, that was one additional son they didn't plan to have. Maybe the mayor would compensate them and Osamu can finally leave this hell hole."

When Atsumu finished his rant he glanced up to see Oikawa sniffling, blowing his nose in a very much unattractive way. Dusting of stars came off along with his nose goop and into his handkerchief.

"The hell ya crying for, I'm the dead one!" Atsumu raged.

_"Well I mean-fuck that's so sad!"_ Oikawa whined. _"Iwa-chan, look at him! Look at him!"_

Atsumu heard a dissonant sigh before the space where the mirror was twisted and out came what Atsumu presumed was another god, decked out in simpler clothes. In contrast to Oikawa's lean beauty, this man was large and riddled with scars.

Oikawa patted the space in the arm of his throne until the man grumpily sat down.

"If you pity him so much, speak normal. The hell are you using your divine voice for? Shittykawa."

Oikawa dabbed his teary eyes and cleared his throat. "Fine. Meany. Bully!"

"Sorry about that," the other god smiled. "Atsumu right? I'm Iwaizumi Hajime."

"Right…" Atsumu trailed off. "Um, sorry, are ya a god too? Are more gods coming?"

"Pft, fuck no," Iwaizumi grinned. "I'm this guy's champion-or former champion really. I kinda just hang out with him since he's such a loner."

"Iwa-chan!" Oikawa whined. Wow, the god image is really slipping by the second. "I'm not a loner! I have friends!"

"Oh, you mean your group of god friends from Argentina? Likely story."

"Iwa-chan!"

"Look," Atsumu interrupted. "Am I going to heaven or hell here? Don't beat around the bush."

"Well, technically you don't have to go to both, at least not right now."

"Huh?"

"Shittykawa here has taken a shine to you," Iwaizumi sighed, slinging an arm over the throne. Oikawa happily leaned against him. "He's offering you a chance to be his champion."

"His champion?" Atsumu repeated. "What does that...entail…" He said, trailing off as he eyes both of them warily.

Iwaizumi noticed and flushed, shoving Oikawa away. The god whined, making grabby hands at him. "It's basically a sponsorship really. He'll bless you with a skill or some sort of rare magical artifact, and in return you need to make a name of yourself and his."

"Huh," Wait. "Do I have to be like a priest or something?"

"Course not!" Oikawa finally chimed in. "Iwa-chan here defeated every known mythical beast out there and spread my names in this distant land called Seijou! They made a statue of me and everything!"

"Only because I refused to have one of mine."

"Point is," the god leaned in, his eyes taking a glint to it. "Be my champion Miya Atsumu, and I'll give you everything you hunger for."

Hunger. Well, that's a nicer word than dreams and hopes and whatever nice adjective they give to something beyond his reach.

"Deal," he says easily. "Where do I sign?"

"Right here!" Oikawa gestured in a flourish, and a contract fluttered down his lap.

"Seriously? Hand gestures? You're so tacky."

"Shut up! Let the kid have some wonder for magic!"

Atsumu tuned them both out as he skimmed through the contract.

**OIKAWA TOORU'S ONCE IN A LIFETIME DEAL!**

**This contract binds one (Miya Atsumu) to an indefinite period of time to one (Oikawa Tooru) in these few rules and obligations that may or may not change as per negotiations:**

  * Oikawa Tooru will provide Miya Atsumu with the skill Regression, the ability to relive a day after experiencing death


  * This skill can only be activated if the means of the death always differ from the one before, else it will not be applicable for reincarnation


  * Miya Atsumu must spread the word of Oikawa Tooru's greatness, measured by the amount of new devotees and people who speak of Oikawa Tooru from Miya Atsumu's deeds



**Sign here,**

  
  


**________________** ****

"There are so many holes in this contract," Atsumu muttered. "But whatever. Gimme a pen."

"Ah, first lesson in dealing with a god kid," Iwaizumi winced. "They always ask for bodily fluids."

"Oh my god."

Oikawa grinned. "You're catching up quick, my champion! Go ahead then, blood should suffice."

And that's how Atsumu forged a deal with a god by pressing a crumpled paper to his bloodied knees, staining it with dirt and gravel.

"Crude," Oikawa grimaced as he gingerly accepted it. "But acceptable I suppose. Well then, enjoy your first regression."

Atsumu's vision blurred, the stars surrounding them becoming increasingly bright until it nearly blinded him. He awoke with a gasp, nearly head butting Osamu in his chin.

As all twins do when they've just been traumatized by the death of their other half, only for them to get up a few minutes later with a dazed manic grin, Osamu screams bloody murder and punches him across the face.

"Okay," Osamu wheezed when Atsumu has sufficiently screamed enough embarrassing facts only the two of them know to convince Osamu that he's not an undead, they lay side by side under the very tree Atsumu had just died on. "So yer telling me, yer basically op."

"Kind of yeah."

Osamu rolled his body until his nose was pressed to Atsumu's. A mirror like manic grin spreads across their faces. 

"We're going to be so fucking rich."

"Hell fucking yeah."

They did not, in fact, be fucking rich.

Turns out despite gaining the skill of literally never dying (permanently at least) that did not constitute to Atsumu having superhuman strength or noteworthy magic powers. He was very much still a twelve year old with wimpy arms and bent knees.

Having to naturally train his body until the tender age of seventeen and be able bodied enough to leave their hometown sucked enough. It sucked even more when weak monsters and easy quests were easily gobbled up by established adventures.

Even if Atsumu learned the attacking pattern of a Minotaur before he died, and woke up on the same day to plan out an attack with Osamu, it wasn't always smooth and easy.

For one, he needed to take care of Osamu. If his brother got seriously injured or even died, Atsumu would have to restart the day.

If he got clumsy he restarted the day.

It took him at least ten regressions to get it right, and even then it was after wasting all his arrows and all of Osamu's mana.

Eventually they had to get a diary filled with all the ways Atsumu has ended his run to avoid repetition. It was an eerie thing to look at honestly, Atsumu still winced when he had to write something down, but it was that or die over his unimaginative mind and all that.

By the time they were twenty, they were too busy focusing on one big prey and keeping their bills afloat to even be swimming in riches. Being a merchant was tempting, but the regression didn't assure a day would turn out exactly as it did last time. If Atsumu did something different, a butterfly effect would ripple, and the stock market for truffles that should've been 320 was 220 now and fuck Samu we're in it now.

The only way that worked for them so far was hunting down S grade creatures.

Eventually, they cracked.

"Fuck yer skill 'Tsumu," Osamu grounded out into his mead. "It's so fucking volatile oh my god."

"I know," Atsumu smiled, laughing shallowly. "Trust me, I know. Oikawa refuses to give me anything else though. Said I needed to think of the balance of the universe or whatever."

"Oh Oikawa Tooru," Osamu whispers reverently. "Ya cunning bitch."

His mead turned to water within a blink.

"OH MY GOD!" Osamu screamed, nearly upending the guild's table. "I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE."

"Gentlemen," A monotone voice chimed in. "I couldn't help but listen in. It seems you've been having problems gaining money through your skill."

"Who are ya supposed to be?" Atsumu narrowed his eyes, reaching for his bow from under the table.

"A kindred soul," the man smiled. "I too have been having problems rising through the ranks. My party is always recruiting, would you two be interested?"

He and Osamu shared a look before they dropped the coins for their food and drinks on the table. "No thanks bud. Good luck though."

"Really?" He asked when they hauled their equipment and bags. "Not even if I tell you how much we make as a group every day?"

Atsumu's ears perked. "Every day?"

"That's right," the man took a long sip of his juice. "Every day we make 5000 gold."

They swiveled around in tandem, Atsumu smiling and shaking the man's hand enthusiastically as Osamu cupped his hands and yelled out for more drinks.

And that was how they fell into the nefarious hands of one Shinsuke Kita.

Under the man's guidance, he and Osamu were given specific tasks and possible opportunities to make perfect use of his regression skill.

Once, he wanted Atsumu to run a fortune telling booth on the town square, decked out in a face veil and thin dancer-like clothes.

Other times he'd pit Atsumu in a colosseum full of blood thirsty gladiators for the winning prize.

And out of the blue as he read Atsumu's diary (or _Death Note_ as Suna, one of the adventures under the Inarizaki party had dubbed it) he'd hum and snap his fingers.

All together Aran, Kita's vice and Ginjima would grab his arms and pinned him to the floor of their house. Yeah, apparently Inarizaki made enough to buy a fucking house in the centre of town. Kita had claimed it was a business expense, a way to reach more clients. Atsumu knew he just wanted a back garden.

"Wha-" Atsumu sputtered. "Aran-kun?! Ginjima-san?!"

"You've gone through quite the list," Kita said as he stood over him, flipping through the book. "Sloppy and downright erratic really. It's time we put some order into yer madness."

"K-Kita-san?" Atsumu stuttered, eyes flying wildly all over the room. "Let's not be hasty here!"

"Let's start with...if the prerequisite takes note of which limb ya bleed out of." Kita smiled. 

"A-Aran-kun help me out here!" Atsumu whispered. "He's lost his marbles!"

"Sorry 'Tsumu, ya know how he is," Aran pats his stomach comfortingly. "I'm sure he has everything planned out!"

"Sorry kid," Ginjima winced. "It's Kita, so…"

It's Kita so...should be their new fucking slogan.

He sends one last desperate look to his brother by the dining room, who met his eyes and simply gave him a half-hearted peace sign. "See ya on the other side, brother."

Atsumu hates every single one of them.

And now, years later he's still here, standing in front of Kita, slouching and scowling.

"Whatever it is you wish to say, say it out loud." Kita said as he signed another paper in a flourish.

"I mean it's weird isn't it?!" Atsumu slammed his hands on Kita's desk, voice cracked. “I’ve been with you for like three years and my pockets don’t feel any heavier than it did when me and Osamu were alone!”

“That’s because you spend every coin you make to the nearest pub and drink yourself ragged,” Kita commented, not a hint of judgment in his face. Atsumu still feels insulted. “I did not sell you a pipe dream when I recruited you both. Osamu nearly has enough to rent that space below the apothecary, doesn’t he?”

Atsumu scratched the back of his neck with a groan. “That’s because he has it in his head that he wants to retire and open a stupid restaurant or something.”

“I wouldn’t say his retirement plan is stupid,” Kita lodges a thick document off the shelves behind him. “In fact, it’s pretty amazing in my opinion. An easy to carry and stomach fulfilling treat called rice-balls that cures status ailments and boosts your statuses. It’s a certified hit, don’t you think?”

“I guess…”

Kita gave him a knowing look, folding his hands and resting it on his desk. “Atsumu, I know it’s been difficult these past few years, going along with my whims and everyone else's. But don’t ya think it’s time ya figure out what _ya_ want to do? Not what’s best for Osamu, or what ya think is expected of ya.”

He leaves Kita’s office with more questions unanswered, and another assignment in his hands. This time it’s an archery competition in the edge of town some rich fuck threw together to show off his new estate. Atsumu grumpily made his way there, saddling on a passing merchant’s carriage.

What’s best for Osamu? What’s expected of him?

Obviously what’s best for Osamu is to be alongside him as he takes on an epic crusade of destroying ancient evils. Nevermind that no ancient evil has been awoken for the last decade. Atsumu has overcome death everyday since he was twelve, he was built for something great, something more. What’s expected of him is a life worth remembering. Not just a fond memory latched in his comrade’s, his family’s, or his string of lovers’ mind, but one that echoed through the lands.

The carriage stops with a jolt and Atsumu screams as he topples down the ground. The merchant glanced at him in worry but Atsumu played it cool as he leaned against the wheel with a smirk. The merchant shrugged and whipped his reins, his horse responding with a high neigh and a run full speed to the other side of the manor.

Atsumu stumbled at the sudden lack of solid objects to lean on. 

He finally made his way to the bustling noise at the edge of the manor’s forest, where a large tent has been set up to host a few noblemen, flashing their jewelry at each other as their servants fanned them.

Atsumu observed his competition as he nabbed bread from the picnic table. There were a few familiar ones he noted. There’s Kageyama and Shoyou, eternal rivals or whatever it is they label themselves other than lovers, who were both determined to join any and all competition where they could prove to one another who was superior. This ranged from eating contests, a dance contest, and the ever popular skill test like the one they’re in now.

There's Hoshiumi and his party, all decked out with white feathers on their cloaks. Nekoma was grouped together not far from them, and Atsumu noted that Yaku would probably enter the contest in their name. Date Tech, Nohebi, Fukurodani, even Kamomedai were all here.

He hadn’t planned on using his regression today, but if push came to shove he might have to relegate today into a scouting mission.

Just as Atsumu bit into a shiny apple, his eyes landed on a lone figure leaning against the tree just on the outer edge. He felt his teeth clack together as he bit too deep, but even the pain couldn’t take him away from the sight.

The man-nay- _beauty_ was breathtaking. Literally, the apple bits were choking Atsumu a little. He had dark wavy hair that somehow made him look ethereal instead of messy, his skin was pale, and his hands-his fingers-they were playing with the blade of his arrow. But what drew Atsumu in the most were those eyes.

Dark pools that for anyone else would be described as dead fish eyes somehow made the man look mysterious. And oh-as he turned his head, two small beauty marks aligned with each other rested on his forehead.

Fuck scouting. Atsumu is bringing his flirting game today.

The noblemen droned on about his estate and new business venture for a solid ten minutes before the contest finally began. Atsumu was placed with a member of the Fukurodani party, and though his hair and eyes were equally black it wasn't the beauty he was hoping to be saddled with.

“You look disappointed Miya-san,” Akaashi said airily. “I’m tempted to be affronted.”

“Aw, come on Akaashi, you know I won’t mess with you.” Atsumu nudged him. For once, the usually prickly man didn’t move away. In fact, he stepped into Atsumu's space, peering up to his eyes. He swallowed.

You see, one does not mess with one's occasional drinking bro's beau. But then again, if said beau was a beauty, how does one not mess with said beau?

Akaashi seemed blissfully unaware of Atsumu's bro-hoe code crisis. He slammed a knee on the tree Atsumu was leaning on, dead centre, shy of Atsumu's crotch. The blond was startled enough to yelp, his knees going weak. Akaashi smirked.

A beat later a long low horn bellowed from the centre of the field, and just as quickly as he approached him, Akaashi disappeared through the woods with a light wave of his hand.

Fuck. Atsumu fumbled with his bow, running through the path. He glanced up and down the branches, cursing when he sees Akaashi's arrows, uniquely decorated with a barn owl's feathers already embedded on some of the targets.

There were essentially two ways to win this tournament.

The first was to hit as many target boards as possible. The space was only enough for one arrow, and any additional one you tried to squeeze in would land awkwardly. The second was to find the hidden targets worth five more points. Predictably they were either set at an awkward angle, completely hidden with the environment, or downright impossible to hit.

Akaashi's little stunt cost him four targets already, and Atsumu was panicking. He sees a break in the trail and signs that Akaashi took a left turn. Atsumu took a hard right.

Mercifully, Atsumu managed to hit a few with his own arrows, the soft feathers of an oriental stork brushing his cheeks as he nocked an arrow. Atsumu had three points under his belt before it began.

The sinking feeling of a much skilled archer advancing in front of you.

Black tipped arrows with a dark wooden body embedded the targets on Atsumu's trail. All of them dead centre. Cursing, he picked up the pace, wildly searching for an empty target.

And then, just as he walked to a small clearing, there he was.

Atsumu's black beauty.

He was perched up the branch of a tree, looking over somewhere far. Atsumu traced his sight to a target high above him, floating above with a balloon contraption. Atsumu's breath stilled when the man reached for his arrow, saddled on his hip.

_What a beautiful draw_ , was all Atsumu could think of. Absent-mindedly he drew his own arrow, trying to mimic the man's elegant yet cut throat pose. He hovered the arrow over the man's figure, one eye closed as he observed the man with his hunter eye.

But then the draw of his string perked the man's ears, and he whirled around in alarm. With a gasp, Atsumu let his arrow go. It flew fast and true and stabbed through the man's arm.

Oh. Oh fuck.

"Did you just…" the man said in disbelief. "Fucking shot me?! Through the arm?!"

"I…" Atsumu trailed off, backing away. "...didn't mean to?"

"Didn't mean to?" The man repeated. "Didn't mean to? Are you kidding me right now?!"

Atsumu yelps when the man jumps down, stalking over him with a face so furious it might as well have been Oikawa after a big fight with Iwaizumi. Bad, is what Atsumu is implying here. Earth shaking, heaven defying bad.

The man had pulled the arrow out of his arm without a glance, pointing the bloodied tip to Atsumu with a growl. "I demand you give me your name."

"Miya Atsumu," he says in a daze as the man steps up to him, blood red and dripping from the arrow, drip drip drip. "What about you?"

"What about me?" He muttered. "Sakusa Kiyoomi. Fuck, did I steal your job or something? Is this some kind of sick twisted plan to get me out of commission?"

"No," Atsumu breathes out, curling a hand over Kiyoomi's wrist. He jerks back, eyes narrowed. "It was an accident I swear."

"I'm not at all convinced," Kiyoomi insisted, tugging his wrist back to no avail. Atsumu's grip was iron strong. "What are you _doing_? Let me go!"

"For what it's worth, I'm really sorry," Atsumu gave him a sheepish grin. "Also sorry in advance for what I'm about to do."

"What the hell-"

With a sharp tug, Atsumu makes the bloody arrow pierce his chest. Ouch. He coughs, and a streak of blood drips from the corner of his lips. Kiyoomi looked distraught, letting go of the arrow with shaky hands. He took a step back, glancing at the speck of Atsumu's blood that managed to stain his fingers in horror.

"You...you-" Kiyoomi stuttered.

"Funny how the arrow is piercing my heart just as sharp as your eyes did." Atsumu couldn't help but say in his dying breath. He gave Kiyoomi a finger gun, delirious with blood loss at this point, before falling over, face first.

Too bad he couldn't see the look on Kiyoomi's face before he regressed. He thought real hard on that pick up line.

-

On his next run he _doesn't_ let himself be distracted by Akaashi. Instead he leaned in real close and whispered what Bokuto said to him one drunken night in confidence. Word per word.

Akaashi flushed red from head to toe. He muttered to himself as he rubbed a hand over his ring finger. Perfect.

When the horn was blown, Atsumu dashed into the forest, knocking his arrows easily to the targets he memorized. He had five points now, and finally his feet took him to the crossroads once more.

He glanced at the right path, and as expected Kiyoomi had blazed his way through the targets once more. Atsumu bit his lip. He could turn right again and run into Kiyoomi. And this time _not_ draw his bow in the man's general direction. He could drag back the remnants of his pick up line, though maybe this time he could whisper it in Kiyoomi's ears after he perfectly hit the floating target.

He could. But Atsumu had a competition to win.

He let out a long drawn out groan as he turned left, cursing his sense of responsibility and pride. The curse of being the breadwinner for his party!

Atsumu easily shot three more targets and two hidden ones by the time the second horn signaling the end of the competition was blown. He strode to the clearing with his chest puffed up, a pleased smile on his face.

Across the field Akaashi shot him a dirty look as he wiped his bow. Atsumu whistled a low tune and glanced away.

"How many did you shoot?!" Kageyama and Shoyou asked each other at the same time.

"Three!" They both exclaimed proudly.

Silence.

Slowly Atsumu backed away as Shoyou jumped five feet in the air, his air magic going haywire as he accused Kageyama of cheating. Kageyama was getting flushed himself, his shadow magic wrapping around his wiggling fingers as if he was imagining himself wringing Shoyou's neck.

Ah, foreplay.

Slowly he drank in the faces of these hopeful archers, a deep curling satisfaction settling in his stomach at the thought of seeing their dumbfounded faces as he took the first place podium.

Miya Atsumu did not in fact take first place podium.

He stared at the silver rose in his hand blankly as the host crooned on and on about how grateful he was of everyone's participation, and oh if they were so inclined do talk about today's competition as they drink their fill in the taverns tonight.

Atsumu glanced up to see Kiyoomi twirling the gold rose in his hand with distaste in his eyes, as if it wasn't worth 10.000 gold alone if one disregarded the delicate craftsmanship.

Kiyoomi noticed his gaze and looked down at him. Then, a small smirk tugged the man's lips, small and unnoticeable if Atsumu wasn't standing just below him. Blood rushed through Atsumu's head.

Far, far too long after everyone in the vicinity had moved on from celebrations, after Kiyoomi had gracefully jumped down from the podium without so much as a glance back does Atsumu breathe again.

"Oh," he whispered. "It's _on_."

-

Atsumu had concocted exactly five different ways he could cross paths with Sakusa Kiyoomi. He was aiming for ten, but honestly after the third _and maybe he’ll be at_ this _tavern tonight_ , Atsumu had to admit he wasn’t exactly the most imaginative person. But in those whooping five scenarios, he never expected to see Kiyoomi again like this.

Kiyoomi clicked his tongue, already moving to leave Atsumu’s fortune-telling tent. “I _knew_ this was a load of shit.”

“Whoa whoa!” Atsumu jumped to his feet, nearly knocking over his crystal ball. He shuffled as fast as he could in his stupid fortune telling outfit, his purple skirt bundled in one hand as he ran to chase Kiyoomi. He parted the tent’s flap with a flourish, and cupped a hand over his mouth as he shouted, “Ya piece of shit! What am I going to do with this child in my belly?!”

A hush fell over the town square as each and every person passing by started to whisper to themselves, shooting dark looks at Kiyoomi. The archer flushed red, out of anger or sheer embarrassment Atsumu couldn’t quite tell, as he whirled around and grabbed Atsumu’s wrist.

“Come here!”

As one last hurrah, he faked a sob and a dainty wave at the crowd. “Oh, ya brute!”

Kiyoomi shoved him to one of the plush pillows and Atsumu landed with a huff. “Rough play already Omi-mi?”

“Shut it,” Kiyoomi hissed. “I want Komori’s money back, you scammer.”

“Hey now, don’t knock it before ya try it,” Literally, Atsumu’s butt was going to bruise from Kiyoomi’s manhandling. “I’m popular for a reason! Once I predicted someone’s death!”

Well, technically Atsumu saw him die accidentally and conveniently had to regress that day, but still! He saved a life!

Kiyoomi narrowed his eyes as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping his hand as he looked down at Atsumu. “Like you could prove they were going to die.”

“Ah, but you can’t prove that he won’t die either, right?”

Kiyoomi sighed. “If that’s all then I’m leaving. _Don’t_ scream anything weird.”

“Aw, Omi-mi, just one tarot reading? Please? And then I’ll set you free, promise!”

He sent Kiyoomi a pleading look until the man caved, shoulder slumping down. “Fine.”

“Nice!”

Atsumu shuffled to his side of the tent, his head piece’s decorations swaying as he crawled to his pillow. For some reason Kiyoomi was pointedly looking away when he glanced at him across the table, but Atsumu assigned that to Kiyoomi’s mysterious beauty habits of brooding.

“Ya ready?” He asked excitedly as he shuffled his deck of cards.

“As I’ll ever be.” Kiyoomi muttered, sitting crossed legs across from him.

“Alright, whaddya wanna ask the cards?”

“Ask the cards?” Kiyoomi raised a thin well manicured eyebrow. “Don’t you mean ask you? Or the stars and planet alignment?”

“It’s all about the heart of the cards, Omi-kun,” He said as he set the deck down. “Go on, put your hand on it and ask what you wanna know!”  
  


Kiyoomi hovered his hand over it with a sigh. “I supposed I’d like to know what’s in store for me in the future.”

“Like at the grocery store? Probably limes.”

Kiyoomi moved to stand up. Atsumu laughed awkwardly, tugging him back. “Not much of a joker are you! Alright I get it. Come on, just pull out four cards, kay?” 

He spread the cards into a fan and eagerly waited for Kiyoomi to choose. With the tip of his finger Kiyoomi drags one card after another, until five cards are flipped face up. Atsumu blinked.

"God," Atsumu said. "You really are a hardass aren't you?"

"I did not come here to be insulted!" Kiyoomi snapped.

"No yeah, I get it, it's just...considering the cards you pulled out it's kind of surprising you'd come to a fortune teller," Atsumu murmured. "I'm gonna say what it means, but don't strangle me alright?"

Kiyoomi crossed his arms, as if he had to physically restrain himself. Atsumu snorted. "Fine. Here, your first card. I think it describes you pretty well. The Hermit. It signifies someone who's in search of the truth, contemplating his life. It also means loneliness, and self isolation."

Kiyoomi's eyes twitched. Atsumu moved on, pointing at the next card. "King of Swords. You live your life with your head over your heart. Since it follows the hermit, I assume you're not happy with how you're living your life-or at least questioning it."

"Knight of Pentacles. You work hard in your life, and you value efficiency. You don't stop halfway, and always see things through. With the previous cards, you're definitely the serious type. Maybe so serious you're pushing people away, huh Omi-kun?"

"Just read the last card." He said, voice tense.

"Ten of Wands," Atsumu tapped it absentmindedly. "You're burdened by your responsibilities. You're on top of them, sure, but you're burned out."

"You've basically described every adventure's lifestyle." Kiyoomi jabbed. But even Atsumu could see the way he tensed up.

"Well here's my advice," Atsumu said as he shuffled the card back into its deck. "Go on vacation. Fuck off to nowhere."

Kiyoomi's nose wrinkled. "Sounds horrible."

"Exactly," he waved his hand. "You look like you need to suffer a little. Get a taste of life. I bet you're so uptight that you already know what you want for dinner tonight."

"As a matter of fact, I do."

"Can I join you then?" Smooth. Slick. Concise and to the point. He'd throw a wink there too, but Osamu says he looks like he has a stroke when he does.

Kiyoomi snorted. "Nice try Miya."

"Aw," he pouted. "What if I told you I'll buy us a round of drinks? Hell, throw in a dessert in that too."

"Oh wow, and dessert too? You sure lavish your dates." Kiyoomi drawls monotonously.

"Date? Who said anything about a date?" Atsumu smirked. "Omi-kun, were you _hoping_ I'd ask you out? Well, if you _insist_ then _of course_ I will!"

"Enough of this," Kiyoomi snapped. Ohh, too far there Tsumu. Too far. "I'm leaving. _Alone_."

"Wait!" He called out. "Come on, Omi-mi! What do I have to do to grab dinner with you? I'll do it, I promise!"

Kiyoomi frowned. Then, he pointed at the cards. "Read me your fate."

"Me?"

"Yeah," Kiyoomi leaned back, a smug smile on his face. "Make the cards tell us whether I'll allow you to take me to dinner."

"Well, sorry to break it to you," Atsumu sighed. "My cards are always the same no matter how I pull them."

Kiyoomi blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Four exact cards always come up," Atsumu said as he shuffled the deck and unceremoniously pulled out four without so much as a glance. "Here. I'll name them all without peeking."

Kiyoomi grabbed the cards and his eyes widened when he read each card.

"First one, always Death. An end of a cycle. Change, metamorphosis. It doesn't always mean physical death."

"Lucky guess." Kiyoomi shot back.

"Second one, the Hanged Man. Always reversed. Needless sacrifice."

"What the hell…"

"Justice, also reversed. Dishonesty. Unaccountability. Unfairness."

"Okay you _had_ to have all this set up." Kiyoomi croacks, a hint of awe in his voice.

"Oh ye of little faith," Atsumu grinned. "Last card. Always, always the Wheel of Fortune. Inevitable fate."

"..." Kiyoomi set the cards down, all in the order Atsumu mentioned.

"Yer starting to believe, aren't ya?" Atsumu laughed, slapping the table. "Hell yeah!"

"How?" Kiyoomi demanded. "How did you do that? Did you mark the cards?"

"Oh please. Ya can pull them out yerself and the same four cards will show up."

"But...how?" Kiyoomi murmured, looking lost.

"Oh I just have someone up there with a very _unoriginal_ sense of humor."

Atsumu feels a warning tug at the back of his mind and reels it in hastily. "A very pretty and wise upstairs deity named Oikawa Tooru who you should _definitely_ worship, here's a pamphlet!"

Oikawa hummed in compliance.

Kiyoomi took it warily. "Right…"

Eventually Atsumu walks him out the tent, with less yelling this time, but as much fumbling as usual. Kiyoomi shoots his skirt a withered look. "Must you dress the part of a fool as well?"

"Hey, it adds to the charm!" Atsumu pouted, cocking his hips. Kiyoomi looks away.

"...thank you for seeing me out. I guess I'll see you around...Miya."

"Yeah?" Atsumu murmured, hopefulness tingling his tone.

"Well," Kiyoomi cleared his throat. "You owe me drinks and dessert after all."

-

He takes Kiyoomi to a famous tavern on the weekend. He looked uncomfortable as he glances around, wincing as one of the servers spill splashes of beer as he makes his way through the tables, grimacing when he stares down at their table, and full on frowning when he looks down at the menu, which really is just a clumsily written scribble of whatever the chef felt like making that day.

“Ya hate this already.” Atsumu groaned.

“Well…” Kiyoomi trailed off, nudging the menu away from him. “You did say to be more...adventurous.”

“Yeah, I did, didn't I?” Atsumu laughs awkwardly. “Here why don’t I order for both of us? I know just the thing to hit your stomach.”

Kiyoomi looked relieved at that. “You’ve been here before.”

Atsumu has never stepped in this place his whole life. “Yup!”

He orders them both finger snacks to share, something light that he assumes Kiyoomi’s delicate sensibilities would like, and a chocolate lava cake.

The date was awkward at best, but the good kind in Atsumu’s humble opinion. The one you can only get over two people who are genuinely interested in each other and are trying their best to show themselves off, only to fail because they failed to show up for class on Basic Flirting 101.

He finds out Kiyoomi’s actual main weapon apparently isn’t a bow and arrow. It’s a _whip_.

“It’s a whip?” He says breathlessly.

Kiyoomi snickers when he sees his face. “It’s got thorns in it so don’t get any ideas.”

“Why whips though?”

“Easy to clean. Easy to carry.”

Kiyoomi’s apparently in this guild called Itachiyama with his cousin Komori. And they have too little members despite them being so well known. Kiyoomi laments his guild captain’s high standards even though he fully agrees with him. It was hard to balance a functioning guild with enough members, and yet be selective enough to avoid runaways and glory-seekers who drag the guild’s name to the ground.

He learns that Kiyoomi loves cleaning his house in his spare time (indication of a sociopath in Atsumu's opinion, but hey if the guy likes his space clean, he likes his space clean), likes to eat sour things, has an inclination for books, and is planning to build a sustainable farm for himself.

Soon the bustle of the tavern quiets well into the night, and they’re just on the cusp of being tipsy. Kiyoomi scoops the now cold chocolate lava cake and takes a bite of it, tentative enough to not leave a single stain of chocolate on the corner of his lips. Shame. Atsumu would’ve loved to wipe it with his thumb. HIs tongue even.

Their conversation lulls as Atsumu tells him about his recent mission south from the border with Osamu (who you should never meet Omi-mi, not till I'm sure you won't leave me!). When suddenly Kiyoomi grasps his throat with a pained look, stumbling down the floor.

"Omi!" He yelled, kneeling next to the man.

Kiyoomi wheezed as he broke into hives, his face red and pained. "Nuts...in...the...cake."

"Oh my god," Atsumu slapped his forehead. "You're allergic."

Kiyoomi answered him with a low groan.

"Fuck," Atsumu muttered. "Hey. Just so ya know this was a great date. Up until I kind of killed ya."

Kiyoomi moaned, his head lolling around as he sweats and claws at his throat.

Atsumu pressed a kiss to his forehead and sighs. He turned to the tavern that had picked up life and bustled in worry as they looked their way.

"Everyone calm down," Atsumu said as he raised his hand, and took out his trusty knife. "It might take a while but I _really_ need to bleed out. If you could get me a ton of alcohol that'd be great."

-

"Seriously?" Oikawa hollered. "A food allergy? On the _first_ date?"

"Need I remind you," Iwaizumi piped up from behind him. "How _our_ first date went?"

"Hey," Oikawa pointed at him. "We saw the milky way like I told you didn't I?!"

"After you got us lost in the fold of the dimension for ten years? Yeah fun times."

Atsumu whined, kicking the floor with his feet like a child. "I can't believe I killed my own date!"

"There, there," Oikawa soothed him. "Dying together on the first date _is_ kinda romantic!"

"Nice," Iwaizumi sighed as Atsumu rolled around the floor screaming profanities. "Very thoughtful Shittykawa."

-

He pointedly takes Kiyoomi to a quieter restaurant in his next life, run by an eldery woman that makes divine chocolate cake ( _no nuts, no nuts_!) that they share together. Usually he hates going on dates with people he's come to know in his previous run. It gets boring when you already know what the other person is going to say.

But Kiyoomi still enthralled him. His voice is level, deep, but still carries a warm tone when he speaks about something he's passionate about. His adventures. His pesky cousin. His guild captain that he admires. Even his disastrous attempt at water magic to clean his house more efficiently.

"Well?" Atsumu turned to him when the restaurant shooed them away for closing time. "Ain't that the best date you've ever been to?"

Kiyoomi tugs at the collar of his turtleneck to cover his face, but Atsumu sees the smile on his face before it's fully covered. "If that's your best, I'm inclined to lower my expectations on our next dates."

Atsumu's heart skipped a beat. "Yeah? You'll see. I'll bring the big guns next time."

"Looking forward to it...Atsumu."

-

He sees in slow motion the horror in Kiyoomi's eyes as he bounded over to their second date with a bouquet of flowers before the sneeze comes, and then it comes again, again and again.

"You're allergic to pollen."

Kiyoomi sneezed. It was the cutest sneeze Atsumu had ever heard.

Atsumu sighed as he casually walked into an oncoming carriage from across the street. "I'll bring something better next time!" He yells out as the carriage sends him flying across the town square.

-

"Oh!" Kiyoomi murmured, as he cups the present in his hand, the colorful paper wrinkling at the edges. "Are these…?"

"Flower-shaped soaps." Atsumu grinned, and all too sudden the exhaustion in his body and the frown between his eyebrows disappeared. Because Kiyoomi is smiling ever so slightly behind his mask, wrinkling the fabric. And it’s decidedly the best thing Atsumu has ever laid eyes upon.

It was worth begging Osamu to go with him to that slime infested forest, worth killing over a hundred of those bastards, practically causing a near extinction on the species, just so he could harvest enough glycerin, and worth testing out one of Suna’s poison (a dud, thank _Oikawa_ ) as long as he’d help them with the soap making. 

“Thank you,” Kiyoomi said, before his smile turned into a frown. “I didn’t get you anything.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Kiyoomi sighed but nodded in assent. 

-

“It’s your birthday today?” Kiyoomi demanded the moment he picked him up.

Atsumu blinked, mid-wave with Komori who was lounging in front of the fireplace. “Yes…?”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“Well,” Atsumu bit his lip. Birthdays were never really a thing with him and Osamu. Cakes were expensive, presents even more, and their parents could only afford either one or the two. They’d usually get one present they’d have to share anyway. As they grew up they’d indulge themselves with whatever they wanted on the day and thought nothing more of it. “I...didn’t think it mattered, really.”

“I hate it.” Kiyoomi muttered.

“H-huh?”

“You’re so…” Kiyoomi gestured up and down. “ _Put together_. You always know what to say and what to do. You make these little romantic gestures while I...I feel like I’m playing catch up.”

“You don’t have to…”

“I want to!” Kiyoomi yelled, the loudest he’s ever heard him be. Even Komori glanced at them in alarm and a hint of awe. “If there’s one thing you should know about me Miya Atsumu, is that I never do things halfway. My job, my hobbies, and my-” he paused at this, before looking to the side with a flush. “...my relationship.”

From behind them, Komori coos.

Usually when Atsumu got into some sort of fight or argument with his lovers, he either restarted the day, or when he’s had enough just up and broke up with them on the spot. But now, standing in front of Kiyoomi’s house (freezing a little, because honestly it’s winter and Kiyoomi hasn’t even let him inside) he finds himself strangely enraptured with Kiyoomi. He stared at the flush in Kiyoomi’s cheeks, noted how it always reddens when he gets angry, and the way the mole in his forehead twitches every so often with his eyebrows.

He doesn’t want to redo this, Atsumu realized. Even this, small insignificant arguments about birthdays, are something he can look back at fondly.

“Wow,” Atsumu breathed out. “Wow.”

Kiyoomi shoots him a dirty look. “What are you smirking at?”

“Nothing,” Atsumu grinned. “Nothing at all.”

He reached out and took Kiyoomi’s hand, smiling at how lithe it feels even under his fur gloves. He runs a finger against the sliver of skin in Kiyoomi’s wrist, grinning even wider when Kiyoomi shivered.

“Come on," he tugged him. "We're going to be late for our date."

"But-birthday-present!" Kiyoomi argued.

"Your presence is a present enough. Heh, get it? Omi-kun I'm so smart, damn."

Kiyoomi looked exasperated with him as he hastened his feet and fell into step with him. "You're incorrigible."

"Huh? Incorri-whatever. Come on!"

He nudged Kiyoomi's shoulders as they walked by the plaza, the smell of food sticking in the air. Warm gravy stirred over an open fire, ready to be poured on thin slices of meat with a hefty serving of mash potatoes. Fondues and rows of exotic fruits on sticks just waiting to be dipped. Warm spiced wine in wooden bowls freely flowing as people hovered around the stand and chugged it down like water.

It's taken a while for Atsumu to finally coax Kiyoomi into eating something from outside a restaurant. The few times he'd taken him to the town plaza he awkwardly refused everything Atsumu bought for him, until he resorted into shoving the food in his own mouth lest he waste it.

But these days they've come into some sort of truce. A middle ground. As long as Atsumu went around eating the food beforehand, could show Kiyoomi he was still in good health, and could properly describe the food, Kiyoomi would kind of maybe take a bite.

"Sweet," Atsumu supplied helpfully. "But not too much. Crunchy? But soft?"

Kiyoomi eyed the pastry in his hand warily. "Very helpful."

Atsumu rolled his eyes, stuffing the pastry between Kiyoomi's parted lips. With a huff, Kiyoomi obediently takes a small bite. With each chew his eyes lighten, and his lips loosen to a smile. Without prompt he takes another bite of the pastry, and jolts in surprise at the sudden burst of custard cream.

Kiyoomi swallowed and turned to Atsumu in awe. "That was delicious."

"Yeah?" Atsumu asked, wiping the corner of Kiyoomi's lips with his thumb.

It says a lot about how delicious the pastry must be if Kiyoomi didn't even flinch at that.

Kiyoomi nodded, staring at the rows and rows of food stands. "...can we try more?"

"Yeah," Atsumu chuckled. "We can try more."

-

"I haven't seen you around much," Oikawa pouted, swirling his index finger at the edge of his wine filled goblet. "I'm starting to think you're avoiding me!"

"Lonely?" Atsumu mused as he took another lick at Oikawa's ambrosia. He'll die if he so much as eats it when he's alive, but the rules are loose when he's in a limbo. "Did Iwa-chan ditch you again?"

"He's hanging out with _Ushiwaka, god of harvests,_ " ooh, he let his divine voice slip there. "What does he have that I don't?!"

"Gee," Atsumu mused. "Maybe you should've come to Shiratorizawa with him. Just a thought."

He snickered as he dodged a well-aimed grape at his face. "MIYA ATSUMU I SWEAR TO-TO MYSELF I'LL SPITE YOU."

After he brushed the non-existent dust off his clothes and moved to step inside the mirror, Oikawa called out to him.

"Atsumu."

"Hm?"

"Are you finally happy?"

Atsumu paused, gripping the edges of the golden mirror. "Well," he started. "I'll put it this way. I'm still relieved every time my regression skill activates."

Oikawa sighed, crossing his legs together. "I guess I'll take that as a yes."

Atsumu curled his lips. It was the closest to yes he'd ever been.

-

"I planned the trip myself," Kiyoomi muttered, trying his best to look disinterested. But even he couldn't hide the way his fingers trace the island on the map over and over. "It'll be...dangerous. But calculatingly so. Nothing you and I can't handle. There's even hearsay of a dragon sighted there. But if you don't want to-"

Atsumu looked up at him from where he squatted down, one hand buried in dirt and the other clutching a flimsy carrot. The sun was shining down on them, bright and insistent the way it always was in the summer.

Kiyoomi had a straw hat on top of his head, casting a shadow over his face. He stood over Atsumu, shielding him from the sun after lecturing him about not bringing proper gardening equipment. He should've realized it was another of Kiyoomi's tell tale signs that he was nervous. He talked. More than usual.

Atsumu opened his mouth to say-well, something. Anything. A witty remark. A teasing jab at Kiyoomi asking him to elope with him halfway across the continent. Something flirty, that'll put even more pink in Kiyoomi's cheeks.

But all he could say was, "God, I think I'm in love with you."

Silence. Across the yard a cricket chirps.

Atsumu slapped his forehead. Dirt and all. Kiyoomi jumped.

"Fuck," Atsumu whispered. "Fuck I fucked up. Okay calm down. I have some leftover poison." He garbled nonsensically as he patted himself down.

"Poison-Atsumu what the hell are you talking about?"

"I fucked up," he repeated, making a grab at Kiyoomi's shoulders. He stopped halfway through the motion and cursed, tucking his hand back. "That was way too early wasn't it? Fuck. Okay. Sorry. I'll redo all of this I swear."

"Don't-don't apologize," Kiyoomi frowned. "And what do you mean you'll _redo_ it?"

"What was I thinking?!" Atsumu growled, pacing around the garden. "In the middle of gardening?! Seriously Atsumu?!"

"Oi!" Kiyoomi shouted, forcibly stilling him. "Miya Atsumu do not ignore me!"

Atsumu muttered under his breath as he finally grabbed the right vial from his pockets and took a swig of the poison. He blanched as he finished it, tongue sticking out. "Oh that's vile."

"What did you just take?!" Kiyoomi yelled as he grabbed Atsumu's wrist tightly.

"Poison," Atsumu said easily. "Some mix of wolfsbane and whatever Suna decided to concoct. Don't panic, I'll be gone soon and you'll forget all about it."

"Gone? Forget?" Kiyoomi demanded, hysteria in his voice. "Make sense right now Miya Atsumu. Make it make sense!"

"Whoa," Atsumu raised his hand in assent. "Calm down Omi-mi."

"Don't tell me to _calm down_ when you've just told me you ingested poison!"

Ah jeez. What the hell. He's going to die anyway, might as well.

He sits down against the row of bricks that line the vegetable bed, and despite his soft pats to the spot next to him, Kiyoomi stubbornly remains standing and towering over him. So he tells Kiyoomi. He's earned enough brownie points to unlock his tragic backstory after all. Only, nothing's really that tragic when you're literally incapable of death.

Kiyoomi stood there for a while after Atsumu trailed off awkwardly into silence. Fidgeting under Kiyoomi's blank look, Atsumu started to softly pat his hands together, watching bits of dirt fall off his skin.

"You," Kiyoomi rumbled. "Have been regressing. This whole time."

Atsumu gulped.

"All this time," Kiyoomi stepped forward menacingly. "I've been wondering why you were so-so _perfect_. You always know what to say don't you?"

"Omi-"

"How many times?!" Kiyoomi grabbed him by his collar. "Have we even had this conversation too? How many times did you reset the day just to fool me, Atsumu? How many times did you- _laugh_ at me when I fucked up? Methodically go through all your options? How-how much of this is even genuine?"

Atsumu stared at him, before he slowly tilted his head down and pressed a kiss to the inside of Kiyoomi's wrist. The black haired man growled, pushing Atsumu back until he was on his back, climbing on top of him with a furious face.

"Are you serious right now?!"

"Dead serious."

Kiyoomi slammed a fist to the ground, a breath away from Atsumu's face. He panted as he stared down at Atsumu, eyes trembling.

"Did you know?" Atsumu murmured. "I've regressed for you three times now."

"What?"

"Once, I made you eat a cake with hazelnut with it," Atsumu winced. "You had an allergic reaction right there in the tavern."

Kiyoomi blinked.

"The second time I bought you flowers, and you immediately sneezed and hacked out your lungs."

"Flowers…" Kiyoomi frowned. "Is that why you gave me soap flowers on our second date?"

"Yep." Atsumu popped his lips.

"...what was the third time?"

Atsumu shifted his eyes to the side. "I-uh, kinda shot ya? In the arm?"

Kiyoomi stared at him before a tell tale sign of a smile tugged his lips. "You shot me in the _arm_?"

"So you see!" Atsumu gestured vaguely. "I've only regressed when I need to, I swear!"

"I can't believe nearly a year to our relationship I find out you nearly killed me three times."

"I'm so sorry," Atsumu said, scratching his head. "For today too. If...if you don't want to see me after all this...I'll-" he took a deep breath. "I'll end it when I regress."

Kiyoomi straddled his hip as he stared down at him. "You're really going to die?"

"It's taking a while but yeah," Atsumu rolled his eyes. "Suna's concoctions are always a hit and miss."

"And I won't remember any of this?"

"Nope."

"Good," he leaned forward, running a hand through Atsumu's dirt covered hair. With a sharp tug he jolted up and their lips met, Kiyoomi uncharacteristically aggressive as he licked inside Atsumu's mouth. With a grunt he bites Atsumu's lip, pulling off with a satisfied grin in place.

Atsumu runs a tongue under his lip, tasting a hint of iron. He looked at Kiyoomi in awe.

"You better say it again to me after you regress," Kiyoomi said as he dabbed the corners of his mouth with a handkerchief. "And don't you dare buckle down."

"Wait-say it again?" Atsumu sucked in a shaky breath. "You mean you feel the same way too?!"

"I don't know big boy," Kiyoomi smirked at him. And for a moment Atsumu's vision blurred, and they were back in that archery competition, one podium off each other. "Why don't you go and find out?"

-

"..."

"..."

"Omi-mi…"

"Shut the fuck up Miya."

"Omiii…" Atsumu whined, burrowing his face against Kiyoomi's stomach. "Omi you do love me!"

He let out an _ouch_ as Kiyoomi chopped his head. "I swear if I had my knife I'd gut you on the spot."

"How was I supposed to know the poison would just knock me out?" Atsumu pleaded. 

"You. Promised. You'd. Die." Kiyoomi gritted out.

Atsumu hummed, cuddling into Kiyoomi with a smile. The man had apparently laid Atsumu's head on his lap the moment he passed out. He felt a little bad, but goddamn does a teary eyed Kiyoomi look breathtaking.

He reached up and brushed Kiyoomi's bangs back, sticking his tongue out when Kiyoomi slapped his hand away.

"Lemme see your face!"

Kiyoomi promptly tucked his legs back and let Atsumu's head slam down the ground.

"OW! OMI-MI?!"

"When will you learn," Kiyoomi said as he walked away. "That your actions have consequences?"

"WELL EXCUSE ME FOR WANTING TO LIVE ON! FOR YA! MY BELOVED! DEAREST OF MY HEART. EVEN WHEN HE CRUELLY GIVES ME A CONCUSSION." He called out to his retreating back.

"Shut up and clean up you little shit."

-

"Oh my god," Iwaizumi gagged as the ace of cups, the lovers, and the four of wands card was flipped up from the deck of cards. "You're such a fucking sap. Can you get any more obvious?"

Oikawa wailed, looking through the mirror as Atsumu giddily shoved the cards at Kiyoomi's face. "Let me have my full circle moment, HAJIME."


End file.
